Tag Archives: hover board

Everybody has returned to the office after the holiday break. I miss the quiet solitude, shopping on Amazon and doing whatever the fuck I want to do. It’s been great not having Co-Worker #3’s loud ass annoying voice piercing my ear drums.

Yesterday, Big Big Boss called to say that she would return on Tuesday, citing that she had broken her arm over the holiday break. She would not say what happened to her. Sometimes when a woman has an injury like that and refuses to explain what happen, you might think domestic abuse. Except, Big Big Boss probably wouldn’t allow anybody to abuse her, but you never know.

Brackium Emendo!

She came to work this morning with a big purple cast on her right arm. Because she’s the Big Big Boss everyone is fawning over her. “Oooh, what happened?” “Are you okay?” She finally admits that she broke her arm riding a hoverboard.

She said she bought two for her grandchildren and she just loved them so much she bought one for herself. She said she spent the entire holiday break riding it and wouldn’t stop even when it started to rain and snow. When it got too icy outside to ride it, she brought it in the house and started riding around on her hardwood floors. The batteries just randomly died and it threw her off into a piece of furniture.

My boss wouldn’t wear skinny jeans, but you get the idea

I didn’t even know what to say to her because she is the Big Big Boss and I don’t want to get fired, so I just asked if she was okay. I find it unfathomable that a woman of her caliber would be riding a hoverboard on her own damn hardwood floors. This is a woman who is at the top of her professional game. She runs a multimillion dollar program and is in charge of hundreds of employees. She comes to work everyday in bomb ass suits, and she is incredibly intelligent and business savvy.

Disclaimer

Because nothing is complete without a list of rules:

1. Commentary is highly encouraged; however, don't be That Guy. Keep it bland. Also, remain anonymous. I have no desire to know any of you. Do not describe yourself, your location, or anything that someone might give a shit about. Don't even approach me in person. Chances are I do not even like you and wouldn't want to talk to you anyway.

2. All characters and events appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and something I dreamt up while sitting on the toilet. In fact, I'm not even a real person. I am a baby tapir living at the San Diego zoo.

3. This is my personal journal and any views and opinions expressed herein are entirely my own lunatic ramblings and NOT the opinions of my overlord--who would first have to have a huddle, then a briefing, followed by a memo and then another briefing in order to have an opinion. The two have nothing to do with each other, so don't even go there.